


Just Imagine

by kronette



Category: Red Dwarf
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-08
Updated: 2013-10-08
Packaged: 2017-12-28 21:14:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/996785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kronette/pseuds/kronette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I used to write little snippits in honor of John Lennon on his birthday or in December. This year, I was inspired for his birthday. Rimmer overhears Lister playing the guitar.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Imagine

Rimmer cringed as he stopped outside their quarters, staying well out of view. He'd sworn he'd heard the horrific twang of Lister's guitar. Encouraging your lover in his hobbies was one thing; being forced to listen to the out-of-tune instrument of death was torture and should be banned under the Geneva Convention.

A half-hearted strum drifted out of the doorway, but it wasn't the ear-splitting wail he'd been expecting. It was soft, like a true acoustic guitar sound. Had Lister been practicing without him knowing? He took a step closer and peered around the doorway. 

Lister was sat on the corner of their bed, guitar balanced in his lap, a look of intense concentration transforming his face from its normal innocence to determined. Another chord was selected and Rimmer inadvertently felt himself smile. That was actually good. He leaned against the wall just outside their quarters and closed his eyes as Lister began to sing, very quietly. 

Rimmer knew he'd heard the song before, but couldn't place it. It was one of Lister's favorite bands, though, that he was pretty sure of. As Lister's voice grew more confident, the lyrics twinged something in his chest, an ache that confused him. It was useless twaddle, imagining a world of peace and hippy dippy love, yet it _hurt_ to hear it and he didn't know why. 

In a rare flash of insight, Rimmer _knew_ : Lister was the dreamer. Lister would love a world where everyone got along, where there were no wars, no hunger, no needless suffering. He could have written it himself, but Rimmer knew it was some famous musician who had been part of an equally famous band. He should know this. Some insect-sounding name. The Crickets? Mosquitoes? Smeg, he was rubbish with band names, but he didn't want to sound ignorant when he went into the room. 

He shook his head as if to clear it. Since when did he plan to go in there and talk to Lister about the song? He should slip quietly away and return making lots of noise, to give Lister time to put the guitar away. But something compelled him to stand in the doorway in full view of his lover. 

He drank in the sight of Lister, eyes closed, singing with such passion. The occasional twang from the guitar didn't give him pause; it was as if he didn't hear it. Maybe he didn't. Rimmer could tell, even if he wasn't musically inclined, that Lister was deeply immersed in what he was experiencing. A stab of jealousy was quickly stomped down. 

"A brotherhood of man," Lister sang, "Imagine all the…" he stopped abruptly as he opened his eyes and locked his gaze on Rimmer.

Rimmer's face was hot and he felt like an intruder on a private moment. He begged softly, "Don’t stop. That's beautiful." 

A huge, happy smile nearly cracked Lister's face. He finished the song in full voice, no longer timid but proud. As he finished the song, the last note of the guitar faded and in the silence, Rimmer found his voice. 

He walked over, sat next to Lister and pressed a loving kiss to the still-smiling lips. "Can you teach me the lyrics? I'd like to learn to sing with you, if that's okay." 

Lister's happy smile transformed into one of slight confusion. "But it stands for everything you hate. It's against structure and government, and wants everyone to live together in peace." 

Rimmer took up Lister's hand and squeezed it. He couldn't say what he wanted if he looked at Lister, so he kept his gaze on their joined hands. "I don't hate it. I can't hate it, because that song is you, Lister. It's everything you believe in; everything you've always tried to get me to understand. Since I love you, I can't possibly hate that song, now can I?" 

His ears were burning as hot as his face, but Lister's cool palm pressed against his cheek and guided his head up. He only got a glimpse of Lister's eyes shining with tears before his mouth was claimed in a loving, gentle kiss that lasted a lifetime.

**Author's Note:**

> I made my first trip to Liverpool in April 2013. I did The Beatles Story and had a dream of a lifetime standing in a replica of the white room, with the white piano, one guitar and a photo of John. I knew I would be affected, but I didn't know how powerfully until I was standing right there. On the Albert Dock, I stood in front of the John Lennon Peace Monument dedicated by Cynthia and Julian. I was eight years old when he died. My parents were Beatles fans, but it was John I gravitated to. It was John I listened to on the radio. It was Watching the Wheels and Give Peace a Chance and Imagine and Woman and Starting Over that I recorded off the radio over and over again. I'm a dreamer and I still imagine a world that he wished for.


End file.
